Roof where you dance

House has collapsed. Roof is where you dance

Door where you knock is floating too high. Stockpiling walls.

Empty fridge full of babies. No milk.

Wings of geese beat sense. Strong women hide in the open.

House is trampled. Art was a dang song

Art was a drowned rug tracing road, zoo, school. Tiny cars.

Art was a dance. Music in rubble

Homeless gold poets. Over and over the wrong truth.

House is stones smashed. Boneless dance on fire

Drink down the other answers. I am close. Home has rooms.